volcano

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The days have been full and my mind and heat have been quiet, so Went back through words I have written before and found this poem in a Long Ago File that spoke to me tonight. I hope it finds you as well.

volcano

do you remember the grade
when we built volcanoes
hollow towers of papier-mâché
and the incendiary mix
of vinegar and baking powder
that spewed over the sides

it was about the same time
our sorrow began to stack up
the strata of struggle and
shame solidifying into a
debilitating monument where
our fault lines intersect

we watched movies of molten
lava bursting forth from the
center of the earth with
unstoppable fiery force
searing the landscape
and then turning to stone

what a surprise to find
that what forces up from the
core of our beings through
the fault lines of failure
the center of our sorrow
is the lava of laughter

a mighty river of love
that knows shame by name
and runs as hot as hope
down the stacks of sorrow
the geology of grace
the pumice of promise

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Peace,
Milton

 

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